Hazardous to Your Health

By J. Scott Olmsted, American Hunter Editor in Chief

Many hunts can be described as hours of boredom punctuated by fleeting instances of action. Few put a knot of anxiety in your stomach like a hunt for dangerous game. Fewer still are punctuated by sheer terror if things don't go according to plan and the quarry is outfitted with claws, fangs or horns capable of ripping a man's gut from belt to throat.

Whether it's on the trail of our infamous brown bear or a member of Africa's Big 5, the dangerous game of the world, the hunters who pursue it and the hardware they use represent a triad of beast, man and metal so alluring as to be almost toxic. Whether you have pursued something that bites back or merely thought about it, you are influenced by the experience.

I have swung for brown bears twice and whiffed, but I still hope for at least one more walk to the plate. I probably never will kill an African lion mainly because the expense of such an undertaking is far beyond my means, but that doesn't mean I don't dream about it. I never have hunted elephant, either, but that will change later this year. I'll keep you posted. Or not.

I vividly remember the reaction of a friend of mine when I described how a companion and I would hunt leopard in Zimbabwe. There, cattle-killing cats are hunted legally at night over bait.

"We'll check baits daily," I said. "When we find one that's been hit, we'll freshen it with an impala we kill, build a blind then wait through the night. The PH and his crew will set up a spotlight on a rheostat above the bait. When we detect a cat on the bait, he'll slowly crank up the light and we'll shoot the cat. If the shot's on the money, the cat should fall from the tree dead. But likely as not we'll have to follow it into the bush and find it with flashlights."

"You mean you might have to follow a wounded leopard in the dark?" asked my buddy.

"Yep," I replied.

I can't repeat what he said next. Suffice to say he didn't think much of the plan. I must confess I wasn't keen about it, either, but when one flies halfway around the world he's obliged to do as he's told else risk going home empty-handed, or worse.

In the end we struck out on leopard, which is typical, but we each killed a buffalo. The pursuit of those magnificent beasts convinced me I had found my clarion call as a hunter.

A Cape buffalo hunt is a dynamic affair full of many things: hours of tracking in the hot sun; moments of confusion when sizing up bulls in a herd; nervous seconds while squatting, surrounded by dozens of critters the size of small cars all capable of stomping you to death; staring back at a beast that seems to ask, "What are your intentions?"; and if you're blessed, placing a well-aimed bullet that tests not only your marksmanship but your mettle. My first bull dropped to a 300-grain TSX through the brain. I wracked the bolt at the report of the rifle but the bull was dead when he hit the ground. I could hear Howard Cosell bellowing, "Down goes Frazier! Down goes Frazier!"

Fascinating? You bet. But I wasn't scared. There was no time to be scared. That moment came last year on my third bull, when I stood mere feet from four dagga boys. So close I could literally smell them, I was sure I could thread a bullet through the brain of the one on the right but ...

When dangerous game is on the menu, your main job—if you love your family—is to be sure you're not also on the menu.

Find the Hotspots

by Mike Hanback

Field Editor

The start of the rut can vary by days or a week depending on region. Determine whether the "chase stage" is on by checking muddy fields or creek bottoms for big (buck) and small (doe) tracks that indicate running, then set up in an area like one described below.

Don't hunt over rubs.

Hunt funnels along buck travel routes between feeding and bedding areas laced with lots of rubs that indicate lots of deer traffic to up your odds of seeing bucks.

Transition zones are good bets.

Bucks prowl "break lines" between pines and hardwoods, rubbing and scraping as they move. Same goes for transitions between crops and woods: If you determine bucks are prowling the edge between those two zones, set a stand and sit tight.

The weather is your friend.

My research suggests bucks rut hardest when the temperature hovers between 25-30 degrees. Be sure to check scrapes one to two days after it rains or snows. If they've been pawed, hunt them.

Find fence lines.

Those that link crops with a point of woods 100-200 yards away can't be ignored. No good trees for a stand? Set up a blind on a downwind edge where the fence dumps into the woods. "Small" is the operative word&#151;don't build a Taj Mahal.

Establish a "pressure plan."

Since everybody and his brother hunts the rut, a thick-cover draw a half-mile or more off a crop field might produce results, even in the absence of rut sign. Once guns boom, bucks will find the sanctuary and pile into it.

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Like the fossilized skeletons of its ancestors displayed in the Smithsonian, a 12-foot alligator can be scary even when it's dead—something that Shooting Illustrated's Adam Heggenstaller learned in person during a gator hunt in Florida. Read More »

fast fact

The cackling goose, a smaller-bodied goose prominent in Canada and Alaska, is a tundra-breeder with considerably more black plumage than the Canada. At one time, the cackling goose was considered the smallest subspecies of the Canada, but is now recognized as a separate species.